


Doses Of Comfortation

by Kuukkeli



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Comfort, Drug Use, M/M, MTMTE, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 04:39:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1805590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuukkeli/pseuds/Kuukkeli





	Doses Of Comfortation

"Misfire? Misfire, where are you?" Fulcrum called for his friend, running through the corridors. He noticed Grimlock and ran to him. "Hey, Grimlock. Have you seen Misfire?" The Dinobot turned around to face the smaller mech. "No, me Grimlock hasn't seen him Misfire. Me Grimlock hasn't seen him Misfire since we came back to the base."

With that the bronze mech continued his search, his systems starting to overheat from all that running around the base.

Finally, after a half an hour of searching and running, the K-con found Misfire – sitting outside the base, his knees drawn close to his frame, shoulders hunched and his wings drooping. Fulcrum walked to the other mech and sat down next to him. "You all right?"

"No", was the blunt, but honest, reply. It was weird to see the normally so care-free and happy mech sad and quiet. The bronze mech lowered his gaze down to the ground and picked up two cy-garettes filled with something organic plant from his sub-space. Offering the other to Misfire – who took it –, Fulcrum lit up his own and inhaled deeply, the relaxing effects spreading inside his systems slowly. "Go on, try it", he said as he saw Misfire eyeing the cy-garette and lit it up.

"Where did you get this?" the purple mech asked. "Oh, I found it a long time ago when I was on a mission", the K-con replied, taking another inhale and held his vents for a nanosecond. Misfire looked at the other as he visibly became more relaxed. "It makes me forget about the bed things. About the bad situations. Pretty much about everything", he said, his words coming out bit slurry. Finally Misfire took his first dose from the fag and liked what he tasted.

Fulcrum blew out three smoke rings and a thin string of smoke through them. "I'm sorry", he stated, putting down his cy-garette for a moment. "For what?" the jet asked. "For... for not being able to relief your condition."

Ah, yes. The never-ending stress. If there was something that got Misfire down and on the edge, it was stress. The fact that every single orn they were on their guard and couldn't trust anyone... No, wait. He did trust his team and Fulcrum. _The fear of being caught_ gnawed at his nerves like no other. And what he feared the most? The almost-fact that Fulcrum would leave him out of fear and frustration because the team was so slow to move on to the next destination – whatever or wherever it was.

Misfire felt a tight lump forming in his throat tubing. "Doesn't matter. There's nothing you can do about it", he said, his voice trembling slightly.

Now the K-con felt horrible for taking that subject on the table; he heard a weak sob and closed the purple mech into a warm embrace... and the other broke down completely. "It's okay. I'm here."

It sure was spark-breaking. The bronze mech pulled the other closer and pressed his dark helm against his yellow chest, rocking them both back and forth gently. Fulcrum flicked his fag away and took Misfire's smoldering one and threw it away, too. Then he returned back to sooth his friend.

They remained like that for a moment until Misfire managed to gather himself... at least somewhat, wiping the tears from his face and optics, sobbing a little. Fulcrum lifted the pale face with his hands and looked into those shimmering red orbs that were full of sorrow. "Do you want to go inside? It's getting cold here."

"Y-yeah", answered Misfire, who was shivering perhaps both from the emotional outburst and the cold night air.

Fulcrum helped Misfire up and wrapped his arm around him, walking back inside.

\----

Luckily they shared a room so Fulcrum could keep an optic on Misfire and it was much easier to keep him company for the purple mech had insisted for them to have a berth for two.

Misfire sat down on the edge of the berth, the K-con next to him. "Do you need anything?" Fulcrum asked with sincerity. Frag yeah he was worried for him! In times like these one couldn't pick his friends to fit his liking but to stick with what was given. Not that Fulcrum complained but this motley crew was a unique one on its own; five Decepticons with each of a history of their own, one K-con and a Dinobot.

The jet nodded, his gaze casted to the floor.

"What is it?"

Misfire didn't answer right away but Fulcrum waited patiently.

"Don't leave me", whispered the purple jet finally.

"I would never leave you. After all, I'm part of this team now and-"

"No! I didn't mean leaving our gang! I meant leaving _me_. Don't leave _me_. I don't care if you left the gang but as long as you're with me, everything's fine. I know I'm clingy and it annoys people but that's how I am!" Misfire snapped and buried his face in his hands.

Fulcrum flinched at the harsh tone, got off the berth and kneeled in front of the other. "Hey... Misfire? It's all right, it'll be okay." He rubbed the purple knees, making sure Misfire knew he was there with him.

The jet calmed down as he felt the gentle touch, peeking behind his fingers. "Can I have a smile?" the K-Con asked, a warming smile spreading on his face. Finally, for the first time that day, he saw how a shy smile sneaked on Misfire's face. " _There's_ the smile. I knew you could do it", Fulcrum beamed.

Misfire snorted at that. "Y-you're so lame, Fulcster." Though, he couldn't hide the amusement in his voice. "And so are you", was the reply.

The bronze mech leaned closer to the purple frame, nuzzling the abdomen. He wanted the other to know that he cared. That he wanted to be close to him. Misfire didn't refuse – instead he bent over the mech, his wings fluttering a little, messaging his slightly brighter mood. He dragged his hands along Fulcrum's back, eventually letting them just rest there, completely still.

Misfire's moment of peace was interrupted by something pressing against his abdomen. He peered towards Fulcrum's head and noticed the other mech kissing him. His abdomen, to be precise. He tried to ask what he was doing but... He didn't really want to. He straightened himself, startling the K-con.

"S-sorry. I don't know what got into me. I-I just... Sorry", the bronze mech babbled and sat back on his knees.

"Don't be. That felt... nice", replied the purple jet and leaned down to get the same treatment to his lips that his abdomen just received.

Fulcrum hesitated at first but soon got his courage to kiss back properly. Revving his engines, Misfire cupped the orange face and deepened the kiss by adding his tongue to the dance. Fulcrum didn't want to be outdone in the game he has started and let his hands roam on the slowly heating frame.

The white hands wandered across the abdomen, over the waist, towards the back and the slightly twitching wings. But as the hands were about to touch the base of the wings, they retreated and dropped down to the pale thighs where they drew tiny circles along the inner side.

The purple mech spread his legs a little further apart, hinting Fulcrum to come closer. What Fulcrum did, wasn't too much far away what Misfire had thought; the mech on his knees traveled down and stopped until he reached his destination and kissed the hot plating with devotion.

Misfire freed his pressurized spike after all that stimuli that was given to him, his vents hitching as the chilly – or it felt like – room air hit the extremely sensitive surface and circuits.

Fulcrum gazed at the spike and then turned his yellow optics to Misfire, running his fingers down the shaft, down to the base where the spike connected with the wires and other lines. Locking his optics with Fulcrum, the purple mech opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out, only a long groan.

"Do you want to say something, Misfire?" the K-con asked, his voice seeping with tease. He licked the tip and planted kisses along the glowing parts, eventually taking the spike in his mouth.

"F-feels so good~" the purple mech moaned, bucking his hips slightly, gripping the back of Fulcrum's head.

The bronze mech uttered a surprised squeak as the other mech pushed his head, gesturing him to take the spike deeper in. "Nnh... s-sorry", Misfire groaned, stroking the back of the yellow head apologetically. Fulcrum brushed it off like it was nothing, bobbing his head up and back down, his fingers gracing the ridges and seams.

Misfire's systems and frame pinged under the growing pressure and pleasure as Fulcrum closed his lips around the head of the spike, licking the tip and the slit. "F-Fulcster...!" hissed the sitting mech, his legs twitching on either side of Fulcrum. The K-con hummed around the spike and took it in whole and deep, the tip touching his throat tubing, stretching it a little. He fought the gag reflection and managed to go even further until his lips met with the base of the spike. He swallowed around the spike, his throat tubing sucking the tip. He did so few times, making Misfire a whimpering and shivering mess.

He stayed like that for a klik, savoring the noises his partner let loose until pulling back, releasing the rigid organ before attacking the underside.

While his tongue and lips worshipped the shaft, Fulcrum's left hand played with the tip, earning a thick coat of pre-fluids to cover his fingers. Primus, how uncomfortable he himself felt right now! He was sure there were some fluids oozing between the seams... staining the floor beneath him... all, mmh, wet and ready...

Fulcrum found a nice spot from the base of the spike, if the loud moan he got from the mech in front of him was anything to go by. He flicked his tongue again over the same spot, brushing the swollen tip with his palm. He could feel how the other mech tensed up, the purple hips raising from the berth.

"Ful-Fulcst-AAH!"

The dimly glowing transfluids burst into the bronze mech's hand, though his fingertips kept on tickling the tip thus making Misfire to spill more and more of his fluids. "A-ah... Don... don't s-s-stop...!" he stuttered as his spike became covered with trails of transfluids.

The K-con did so for some time – eventually, though, he ended the "torture" and cleaned his hands, face and Misfire. He then sat down next to the purple mech.

"I... I take back what I said earlier. That there's nothing you could do about my condition", the purple mech sighed, calming his ventilation. Fulcrum nuzzled him, squeezing the dark hand gently.

A peaceful silence fell between them.

"So... Do you want _your problem_ to be taken care of?" asked Misfire, a meaningful grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"If you don't mind."


End file.
